


Check The Margins

by GrowingTheEmpire



Series: Leave Me Notes [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, andy and joe are mentioned, not nearly enough, oh well, patrick is nervous, pete is smug, sharing a high school textbook and leaving each other notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:17:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowingTheEmpire/pseuds/GrowingTheEmpire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick ruined some of his textbooks, and has to use the school’s replacements. Pete is already using the replacements, and is delighted with somebody in red ink starts commenting back to his snide remarks about the teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check The Margins

Patrick walked in late his first day of class, which was the start to a rather bad day. He walked in the school office more than frustrated with the way traffic was, how it was pouring down rain since the crack of dawn, how he was soaked to the bone,and how some of his new textbooks had fallen into a huge mud puddle.

“Little wet outside, Mr.- er- Stump?” The old secretary said from behind a huge monitor.

“You could say,” Patrick said, trying to laugh it off. He knew he was incredibly late.

“Well, I would just be advised that this school certainly isn’t lenient with tardiness as your old school seems to have been. Keep that in mind, Mr. Stump.” The woman said icily with raised eyebrows. “And- hats are against the school dress code policy.”

“I am sorry about that,” Patrick said reluctantly removing the hat off his head, ducking down. The woman hummed her disapproval and handed Patrick his schedule. “We are in third period. That would be Bio for you, with Mrs. Divin on the second floor, third classroom on the left.” Patrick nodded, trying to create a visual map.

“And Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be late.”

*

Bio. _Bio._ The class almost sickened Patrick. Not because he was horrible at science, but because it was one of the textbooks he had dropped in the disastrous mud puddle. And he would do anything but ask for help and draw attention to himself. Not around people he didn’t know and had already given a first impression. But he was going to brave up and make sure he gets a new textbook.

He immediately regretted that decision because as soon he opened the door, everybody craned their necks and made their decision whether or not they liked him. _New kid. Fresh meat._ That’s all Patrick is now. _Vulnerable. Defenseless. Alone._

”Oh hello, you must be the new student.” the teacher said in a horrible monotone voice. Oh boy.

“Patrick Stump?” _Okay- meat has a name._ _Patrick. Cool enough, not super unique but not ridiculous. Stump is an unfortunate last name to have, especially with a height like that. Vulnerable. Defenseless. Alone._

“That would be me.” Patrick said quietly, walking over to her and clutching his ruined textbook. “I might have tripped?”

Mrs. Divin sighed.How can somebody sigh so much like a robot? “Take the back seat, there is one with a textbook under it. Use that one for now, Stump.” Patrick nodded and didn’t push it. It was fantastic he was in the back. Less eyes on him. Less worry.

*

In short- the textbook was old, and used. Also jackass with the initials P.W. decided to write all over it. What a douchebag.

“Now, Patrick, we are on chapter 4, which is Chemical Transfers in the Body. Are you caught up with this class from you old school? Does this look familiar?” No, it didn’t. Patrick nodded. “Good. Then you won’t need tutoring to catch you up. Fantastic. Turn to page 98, and I’ll read from the passage.”

**Every time I think about this class I think I’ll just die of boredom.**

**Maybe it would be fun to cut off Hayley’s hair. Just to get something going in this horrid class.**

**This class makes me feel like an induced coma is a good idea.**

**Why? Why? Nobody even fucking uses Biology anyways!**

 Patrick found the words written in dark, jet black ink, way more entertaining than faded print of Biology. But in this class, just about anything would be more entertaining than the text. A guy next to Patrick was catching up on his sleep. One girl in the front is super interested in the fly that keeps landing on her desk. A couple kids sneak peeks at Patrick, leaning over trying to be discreet.

 **Mrs. Divin NEEDS to retire**.

 **I might just poke my eyeballs out if I have to see her scratch the mole on her saggy boob again**.

**That’s it. I’ll be blind as soon as I sharpen this pencil.**

Patrick laughed. He took a brand new red pen and scratched in his initials next to P.W’s. **I never want to come back to this class again. Never.** He glanced up, to see if anybody noticed. Nobody did. He went the rest of the day, being observed from a distance and eating lunch alone. And writing alongside P.W. and his black ink in the classes he had replacement textbooks.

*

He walked into Mrs. Divin’s class begrudgingly. As much as he enjoyed himself with the comments in the margin, he would rather eat out his inside with a spoon than be in the class. He flipped it open to page 99. And he was not disappointed by the little, cramped handwriting. **Preaching to the choir man. Divin’s a colossal bitch. A colossal, robotic bitch.**

Patrick smiled. _Contact._ He uncapped his red pen.

“Mr. Stump?” Patrick snapped his head up, probably looking guilty from the start.

“..Yes?”

“Your hood?” _Oh yeah. New Kid can’t even remember the rules._ A couple mean faced kids snickered.

Patrick lowered his hood slowly, blushing slightly. “I’m sorry.” Divin sighed and droned on. **I think she wa** **tered that sad plant in the window with her spit, is that normal?** He wrote in. 

Divin was seriously the grossest, most boring, ugliest person he had ever met. But he would never say anything like that to her face. He would much rather write it in a book that is in her classroom, to a random stranger he knows nothing about except his/her initials . _Not the smoothest move, Patrick_. He doodled in the margins for a bit. He was never much of an artist, not with drawing anyways. But it was something to do.

*

**You wrote in a bunch of my books, didn’t you?** P.W. wrote in his last period. 

**I just couldn’t resist.** Was all Patrick wrote back.

*

He walked avidly to Divin’s room. He just wanted to see the response left from P.W. That’s all. He was walking into hell, just to check email. 

**Oh, Carl? The sad, sad plant. We pray for him. Its like the third one she has had this year. They keep dying. And, dude, just be glad we are in the back. I used to sit in the front. She needs to learn to say it- not spray it.** Patrick glanced up. The kids in the front never looked the happiest. He could see them subtly flinching from her every time her mouth opened. 

**Nasty. Are all the plants named Carl, or just the ones that seem to grow mold on them?**

* 

**All of ‘em are named Carl. Better like that anyways. It’s supposed to not have you get attached to them. But I dunno. This Carl is growing on me, even with Divin loogies being its main source of nutrition. Maybe it’s the way it sort of tilts to the grow light next to it instead of the window. A metaphor for the human condition, found in the most dingy, disgusting place in the county school systems.**

Patrick tilts his head and thinks about it. And he loves it. 

J **ust hope she doesn’t replace him with a shitty petunia.**

* 

**Fuck petunias! Fuck ‘em!** is written across the whole page.

Patrick uncaps his red pen. **Fuck petunias!**

* 

**I am beginning to wonder the identity of P.S. the owner of the red pen. You complete me; P.S.**

Patrick smiles a little bit. 

**Patrick Stump**. 

*

** Oh. You’re the new kid, right? Cryptic new kid. Hasn’t talked barely anybody, other than to be polite and to respond to g ** **etting yelled at for either a) having a hat or b) wearing his hood. I’ve heard about you.**

O _h? What does that mean? What could they possible have heard about Patrick, and from who?_ He barely knows anybody at this school. 

**Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t know your identity! P.W. owner of the blackest ink. Literally it’s like a void. How to get that dark of a color?**

* 

**If you press hard enough, you can make a pen work for you. And the name? Pete Wentz.** Patrick loved that he had a name to put to the ramblings out of his textbook. 

_Pete? Pete._ Patrick rolled the name around in his mind. _It’s a guy. He’s a guy!_ Patrick scanned the page and quickly pulled out his phone to take a picture. Pete Wentz left his phone number at the bottom of the page. 

**Thank you.**

* 

Patrick was sitting at the foot of his bed and kept going back and forth. _Should I call him now? Or wait for - wait for what? Wait for him to call you? You didn’t exactly leave him your phone number! Get over yourself Patrick!_ Patrick pressed send. And immediately regretted it.

It rang a couple times. Patrick prayed for it to go to ringer. _Please god. I have never been religious, but please please please._

”Hello?” A voice asked on the other side, warmly. 

“Hey?” Patrick asked more than said. 

“Pete?” He added. 

“So this is Patrick Stump?” Pete said, sounded more amused than nervous. 

“This is Pete Wentz?” The guy on the other line laughed. 

“Of course it is. I left my number for you at the bottom of the page. Wanted to see how observant you were.” 

“Was that a test?” Patrick asked, faux accusingly. 

“Everything is a test, in it’s own sort of way. It sort of pissed me off you had wrote in my books, at first but then, red pen guy, you turned out to be cool. As far as I know- I think.”

“My name is Patrick, not red pen guy.”

" Whatever, red pen guy. So, tomorrow is Friday. Wanna skip classes?” Pete asked nonchalantly.

Patrick was stunned. _Skip classes? His parent would kill him. Majorly. But- this was prime get to know Pete time. It is so interesting though. So interesting._

“Patrick?” Pete asked again.

“You. Me. No classes.” 

“I don’t know you! You could be a murderer! Besides what would we even do?” Patrick asked, debating whether it was worth it. 

“Not be in class. I dunno, we could get like ice cream. Crash the mall, a very public place where a serial killer would definitely not take his date.” 

“Date?” Patrick squeaked. Pete laughed. 

“Dude, just give me your address and I’ll pick you up.” 

* 

“Okay, so now we are at the mall, eating ice-cream, what do you want to do next?” Pete asked Patrick. Pete was different and perfect than what he had imagined. He had the dark eyes that just kind of melted your heart. 

“I had no plan to ditch school. None at all. So I am boring and have no ideas. Where do you take all your murder victims?” Pete thought awhile. 

“ You know what, not the last time but the time before I took my victim to laser tag. It was fun, up until I slit her throat.” Patrick laughed and nodded.

“Yeah that can definitely be a mood killer. "

“No, but seriously, do you want to go play laser tag?” Patrick raised his eyebrows. 

“I have never really played before, if you can believe that.” Pete’s mouth quirked up into a smile. 

“You are in for the time of your life.” 

*

Patrick was behind the wall, watching Pete “sneak” up on some kids, planning to ambush him and win the game. Or at least win against him. He won’t let that smug son of a bitch win, not after giving him the satisfaction of taking Patrick somewhere actually cool. Patrick jumped out and shot blindly until he heard somebody’s vest turn off. 

“I got you, bitch!” Pete yelled, high giving one of the six year olds. 

Patrick’s jaw dropped. “My plan was perfect! How did you not die?” 

Pete tapped the gun to his head. “‘M just smart.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and Pete laughed. 

*

“Have a nice day!” Pete yelled at Patrick as Patrick walked back to his house. 

“I hope you fall off your piece of shit car!” Patrick yelled back.

“Oh you don’t mean that, ‘Trick!” Pete fake-pouted. “You are just upset that I beat you at laser tag.” 

“The system was fucking rigged!” 

Pete shrugged his shoulders. “We may never know.” 

*

 **Did you have a good time Friday?** Pete had written first period. Patrick sighed and uncapped his red pen. 

**My mom busted me. Grounded for two weeks from going out and my phone over a shitty ice-cream and a lost game of laser tag. All because of you.**

* 

**I am sorry to hear that sweetie pie. But I guess that rules out what I had planned for Friday night:(**

Patrick furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t know which he was confused more about, the pet name or plans. 

**Friday night?**

*

**Ugh Divin is like, on her time of the month, or something. Carl is also looking a bit down too. Not a good day. I hate the middle of the week especially. Plus we have sucky weather. Oh yeah, plans. My friend Andy is throwing a party. Super cool party, I wanted to take you. If you were up for sneaking out** **…. Maybe. Can’t risk precious Patrick getting caught again.**

Patrick rolled his eyes. 

**If we plan it right, I can go. I think. I might sneak in during lunch and give poor Carl some water, too. Looking pretty sickly.**

*****

**Can I pick up Your Majesty around 10 o clock** **tomorrow?**

Patrick bit his lip.  _Would it work? Should be even be doing this?_ Pete was easily his best and only friend. Just because he is afraid of screwing it up with anybody else. He didn’t expect anybody to write back in the textbooks, either. His mom would murder him even more. He would have to sit through another ‘responsibility’ talks and then be sent to bed without dinner. 

**Sounds good.**

*****

Patrick snuck out the back door at around 9;45 and waited out on the porch. Pete shows up fifteen minutes later. Right on time, reliable Pete. 

“You look awfully grouchy for somebody that is going to the biggest party this year.” He noted as he swung open the door for Patrick.

“It is just risky.” Patrick said quietly.

“What?” Pete ask cranky up the music in the car. 

“It is just risky!” Patrick said louder. 

“WHAT?” 

“IT IS RISKY GODDAMNIT!” 

“ **FUCK RISK!** **”** Pete shouted with the windows down. Patrick and Pete laughed about it for awhile. “Let me tell you. We are gonna have a couple drinks; we are gonna get laid, we are gonna have a good time.”

Not that Patrick hadn’t drank before or anything, but. “Who is driving us home?!” 

“The more sober one of the two of us.” Pete said. 

Okay, now it will just be Pete having a good time. Patrick will be the DD. 

“Ho- Okay.” 

* 

Pete is beyond wasted, and Patrick had like, a half a beer, two hours later. They are sitting on a couch and Pete if flirting with this drunk girl for awhile.

“You know what, Pete you need to take a break. Drink some Gatorade or something. Get some crackers. I don’t know.” Patrick said lifting Pete. 

Pete pointed at Patrick. “Always thinking, Patrick. Always thinking.” And they walked/stumbled into the kitchen. 

The found some water- which is an okay substitute. And Patrick grabbed a box of Wheat Thins. 

They sat back down on the couch. Drunk girl is AWOL. 

*

“You know, Trick, you’re, you’re a good friend. A real solid, good friend. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.” Pete said, hanging on Patrick. 

“I think we should be going.”

“I need to tell you that-“

“Come on Pete, get up, we gotta go.”

“I love you soooo much Patrick! I really do!” 

“Okay whatever, come on.” Patrick said, grabbing Pete’s hand. 

Pete put his other hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “No. I love you RED INK GUY I love you!” And proceeded to try to kiss Patrick. A bunch of girls screamed from the living room. 

“Aaaaand no. We will talk about this, what there is to talk about, tomorrow! and not here! Okay?” Patrick said faux-enthusiastically, pulling Pete into the car.

Patrick drove Pete to his house, because he couldn’t think of where else to put him. He didn’t know where Pete lived. Pete spent the entire ride with the back of his hand pressed up against Patrick’s cheek. “You’re really pretty ‘trick.” 

“You’ve told me so. About the third time in this car ride.”

*

Pete puked in Patrick’s mom’s begonias. 

Patrick was too tired to be pissed. 

*

“It feels like death and the world imploding and death. Do you have the lights on?” 

“No.” 

“Too bright. Close the curtains.” 

Patrick stood and closed the curtains. 

*

“What did I do last night?” 

“You made out with not one but two drunk girls at one time last night.”

“Score.”

“You hung out with Joe for awhile,”

“The means that we smoked weed, which is a score. I like Joe.”

“What does he look like?”  
 “Afro. You wouldn’t miss him. Skinny.”

“I think he is in Divin’s class with me. He is always asleep.”

“Classic Joe. Okay move on?”

“You declared your undying love for me, and tried to kiss me.” 

“How far did I get?” 

“You were so drunk that you missed my mouth.”

“And..? How far off did I miss your mouth?” 

“Jesus Pete! You did not get anywhere with me!” 

He sighed. 

“You puked in my mom’s flower bushes out front.” 

“Damn.”

“Yeah. You might want to apologize when we get downstairs.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask. Where are we?”

“My bed.”

“Score.” Pete smiled and Patrick rolled his eyes. 

*

**How bad was the damage?**

Patrick uncapped his red pen. _Horrible. Never again. You’re too unpredictable._

**Another two weeks.. But I think I have an idea of what we can do this Friday.**

*****

Pete walked to the back of the room, noticing Carl looked exceptionally healthy today and slunk back into his seat. 

He smiled when he read the neat, little, red handwriting of Patrick.

**Fantastic.**

 


End file.
